Work Text:
True to the old man’s word, the loud ass doctor had been a good call.
Aside from the toxicity of the polluted zone, his bare feet had been in really bad shape. He had been so out of it while running, that he hadn’t even noticed all the debris and trash piercing his feet.
The old lady (because yes that was a woman apparently) had done wonders and managed to meticulously remove the glass shards embedded in his soles, loudly reminding him how lucky he was for not getting an infection. The warm shower and the tasty lizard stew he got to enjoy later, had been the real quickers though. That and the new clothes that the man had given him, had brought some warmth back into his body.
Said man had introduced himself as Alto and he was a weird guy to say the least. Too kind, too giving, and too easy-going for a denizen of the Ground.
In short, too good to be true.
He hasn’t tried anything weird yet, but Enjin is not yet convinced that the old man is not gonna sell him off the minute he lets his guard down. Food and clothes are not any indicator of a good samaritan in the Ground. Everyone knows that nobody would want to buy an emaciated slave and well groomed children fetch a better price than the ones covered in shit. Something about making the product presentable or so he heard.
“Ah there you are. You look less dead without all that grime on you. Go sit down, I've got something else to show you.” The man says when Enjin enters the room, fresh out of the shower.
Begrudgingly, Enjin does as he is told and sits down on the sofa under a tall window, eyes not leaving the man’s back. Just in case he just decided now is a good moment to take out a gun and tell him to get down on his knees.
However the guy seems completely oblivious about Enjin drilling holes at the back of his head, too preoccupied with tinkering with the big box (more like a cooler?) on one of the clinic’s desks. The cooler-like box (?) is giving him too much trouble apparently, enough to completely ignore Enjin’s distrustful stares at least.
After a while, deeming the situation safe enough for now, he breathes a sigh of relief and with nothing better to do, turns to watch the blasted rain continue to fall down outside.
He wonders what’s in store for him now. If this guy is true to his word and is not planning on selling him (unlikely) what is he supposed to do? He can’t go back to where he came from. That is definitely not an option. He supposes he could find work around here, but one glance at his tattoos and any broke bastard would gladly turn him in to the slave market once more to cash in the reward for returning lost merchandising.
As always, his options are limited and he is back to square one, the situation not much different than a few hours ago at noman’s land.
A new name and clean clothes are not gonna change much. He is still the same pitiful orphan he has always been.
A final loud click and the sound of the padlock falling on the table catches his attention and makes Enjin sit up straighter and alert. It seems that the old man has finally won his battle with the box’s lid and is taking something out of it.He turns around and slowly approaches the boy on the sofa while carrying what looks like a bundle of blankets, making Enjin confused for a moment.
It cannot be a weapon, Enjin thinks, or at least not a normal one judging by its shape. Maybe more food? Could be, but the man is carrying it like it’s something delicate and fragile.
Finally Alto stops in front of him and leans down, presenting him with whatever he is holding in his arms.
And to Enjin’s surprise and shock, wrapped inside the pile of blankets is a baby.
A real, whole ass, sleeping baby!
“Enjin, this is my son, the one I mentioned before. Here, don’t be shy, hold him” The old man says, and practically shoves the bundle in his arms, not waiting for Enjin to refuse.
Recovering from his initial shock (who the fuck keeps a baby inside a box under lock and key?!) Enjin turns his attention to the tiny little thing, whose weight doesn’t even register in his arms.
Aside from how light he is, Enjin is also startled by how pale the child looks. His chubby cheeks, fingers and even his short, thin hair are as white as the snow of the north ward he had seen in picture books long ago.
Are babies supposed to be this pale? Enjin thinks.
Babies are a rarity to him. Not because he has never seen one, but rather because he has never been around them that often.
Life on the Ground is brutal, especially if you are a barely sentient, tiny human being in diapers, who can’t properly chew food and much less fight the very vicious creatures of the wastelands. Having parents to provide for you was crucial for survival in those early years and if you were unlucky enough to become one of the many orphans of this world around that age, you would most likely end up dead by the curve.
Therefore, since the average age kids were expected to survive and got put into orphanages was around five to ten, Enjin had spent his childhood mostly around older teenagers and children his own age.
No, now that Enjin thinks about it he can only remember a single baby that made it inside that cursed building. A loud, demanding little creature that cried constantly unless somebody was holding him 24/7, who was freshly orphaned right after one of the biggest trashstorm in recent memory.
While annoying and more effort than was worth it however, the baby had brought a strange sense of order into the chaos of their life. It was subtle but noticeable, the weird camaraderie shared between a bunch of kids that had banded together to take care of something that they subconsciously knew was fragile and vulnerable. Something precious.
And it was gone as soon as it came.
One day, he had opened the door to the improvised nursery the kids of the orphanage had built for the baby, only to find the cradle empty.
And just like that, as if the baby had taken it with them, all the goodwill and harmony among the other orphans had disappeared, replaced with the familiar animosity and petty rivalry.
When asked, the explanation of the so-called “caretakers” of the orphanage had simply been that the baby had been adopted by an eager couple that had wanted the child so badly they had come in the middle of the night to take it home.
No goodbyes, no nothing.
Suddenly, Enjin’s arms tense. The little thing that before weighed nothing now feels heavy in his arms. His grip around the baby becomes stronger, almost possessive, while a chill runs down his spine.
He desperately wishes that he could believe in the lie the shitty caretakers told. That the baby that once disappeared, is now living happily with parents that love and cherish them.
Now that he knows what the "orphanage" was truly for he knows that it’s just an empty wish, a delusion to make himself feel better.
Innocence doesn’t last on the Ground.
He shouldn’t get attached to this one either.
”Ugly ass baby” He says, trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands by giving the little bundle back into his father’s arms who is now sitting next to him on the sofa. If he sees Enjin’s sudden distress he doesn’t mention it.
”Come on! He is not a baby, he is a year and a half already, so technically he is a toddler now" Alto retorts,while carefully adjusting his son in his arms, more indignant about the miscatalogatization of his toddler than the comment about his appearance.
”No comment on the ugly part huh? Also ONE year?! Where?! He is tiny!!!” Enjin shouts, finger pointing at the clearly minuscule baby in the old man’s arms that couldn’t be more than a few months old.
“Shhhhh! You are gonna wake him up!”
As if he had been waiting for his cue, the baby finally decides to make his entrance. Large eyes suddenly open, startling both Enjin and Alto into silence.
For a moment nobody speaks. Nobody moves, nobody even breathes, desperately wishing for what is about to happen to please not come true.
Unfortunately, It takes the little thing one look at his father and then another look at the new face hovering over him to decide that he doesn’t like what he sees and start crying like a damn trashstorm alarm.
“See!?!” Shouts Alto,voice barely rising above his son’s ugly cries. Damn, kid may be the size of a bug, but he surely had the lungs of a trashbeast, Enjin thinks while covering his bleeding ears. To his credit, Alto tries to no avail to soothe his child, bouncing him up and down while making shushing noises that only seemed to aggravate the poor thing even more.
Taking pity on the old man, Enjin looks around the room, trying to find something, anything that could help him distract the crying toddler and end this torture to his ears. After a quick survey of the place he sees it. There, shining next to the box Alto was tinkering with before, are a set of keys. He rushes to the table and grabs them, not wasting a minute coming back to the sofa and frantically shaking the keys in front of the baby’s crying face.
Babies are dumb. Everything in the world is brand new for them, so even the most stupid, mundane things are entertaining and exciting.
It takes a few shakes, but either the clinking sound or the repetitive movements manage to pick the baby’s attention enough to make his cries gradually subside at least. The scrunched, ugly face has now been replaced by a look of pure curiosity. His big eyes followed the keys with rap attention while his chubby fingers tried to catch them.
Enjin envies how little the kid needs in order to be happy.
Observing the child now that he is wide awake and calm, Enjin once more notices how odd his features are. Most notably it’s the red eyes that stand out the most. They are a deep hue of crimsons that makes the white skin pop up more. A mutation perhaps? Not that uncommon really, especially for people that lived closer to polluted zones.
“Never seen someone with red eyes. And why is he so pale? Is he sick?”Enjin asks, curiosity winning the battle in his mind. He doesn’t want to piss off Alto by prying into his matters, but the more he is around these two the more questions he has. Both of them, father and son, feel…alien to Enjin. Like they don’t belong to the same world as him.
”Not …exactly. Life has been a struggle for him…even being born has been a struggle.” Alto answers. A note of doubt paints his tone, as if he himself doesn’t quite believe what he is saying or rather genuinely doesn’t know if what he is saying is true.
There is a reverence, a profound sense of awe laced with melancholy that shows in the man’s face as he tenderly watches his baby. As if this child being alive in his arms is a miracle he can’t still wrap his head around.
It’s almost mesmerizing.
Is this what a parent should look like? Enjin thinks. Enamored by the mere idea of their children alive and well?
A sting of unbearable jealousy pierces Enjin’s heart. He wonders if his parents had ever looked at him like that. If anybody in his life had ever looked at him with such affection and devotion as this man is looking at his son.
He abandons that thought. The truth is too devastating.
“But he is a fighter though. Just like you” the old man states, with a certainty and confidence only reserved for those universal truth a person believes with all their heart.
It takes an embarrassing two seconds to register in Enjin’s mind that the old man is talking about him. That the words of praise are meant for him and not only the little baby in between them.
Is he a fighter though? Enjin doesn’t think so.
He is a coward, a runner.
He had run the first time, tired of the suffocating atmosphere of the never-ending fights between his housemates, with the excuse of finding help.
The second time he ran, he abandoned everything. Incapable of stomaching the knowledge that everything had gone to shit because of him.
Enjin doesn’t dare to look at Alto’s face. Shame becomes a burden so great that his head refuses to raise, in fear that the old man will see it plain in his eyes.
He may have lowered his head too much though, because all of a sudden, in an impressive feat of speed unseen in a toddler, the munchkin grabs a handful of blond hair and yangs down with all his might.
“Ow!Owowowowo!!! Let go, you little brat!” He demands. The kid really needs to chill ‘cause while he may not have a lot of strength, he sure makes it up by being relentless and stubborn.
Trying to not go bald and save his scalp, Enjin takes the kid away from Alto and into his arms again and, with a little bit of insistence, manages to pry his hair out of the little guy’s iron grip. It is then that five tiny fingers wrap around his thin one startling Enjin, interest in his hair lost in favor of his apparently much more compelling hand.
Grateful once more for the distraction from his own thoughts, he can’t help but utter a faint laugh. The little munchkin tries to shake the older boy’s fingers, putting all his strength in his arms and only succeeding because Enjin, amused by the shenanigans, lets his hand go lax.
“He is lively I’ll give you that” Enjin chuckles, deliberately shaking his hand up and down now, amused by the face of the stubborn child that refused to let go and complains when the hand gets too high and has to struggle to keep his grip on Enjin’s finger.
He really is full of energy and life, this little fella. Enjin wonders if he is able to walk yet, because if he does, he is sure that the moment his tiny feet hit the ground it’s going to be a riot. Considering he grabs everything he sees, it would be hilarious.Watching the old man run after his son like a headless chicken while trying to sto—
Oh.
What is he doing?
He is getting attached to a kid and a weird stranger that he just met a few hours ago, is what he is doing. Something he told himself he wouldn’t do, shouldn’t do.
He is not allowed whatever this is. He needs to be thinking about his survival, about what he is gonna do after these two leave and move on with their lives while he is left behind in the dust.
He cannot depend on the kindness of strangers forever. These people have their own life ahead. A life that truly does not involve him in it.
”What 's wrong? You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden.”Alto asks, voice gentle and soft.
“I don’t know” he mutters and he means it. He really doesn’t know what he is doing, what he is going to do or even what he is allowed to do.
His head is a mess. This whole situation seems unreal and confusing. He was a slave not a few hours ago and when he leaves this place he is just gonna be a nobody, with nothing to his name but a past that would surely come back to bite him in the ass for sure.
“That 's fine. It’s okay to take a break while being lost too.”
”Really? If you get too comfortable, the past is gonna catch up with you. You know?”Enjin sarcastically says, while distracting himself with the baby, not brave enough to look at Alto’s face again, fearing what he might find there. Disappointment? Irritation? Or worse, pity hidden behind a tense smile, accompanied by those empty, optimistic pleasantries people like to say to make themselves feel better.
”You are right. More reason to stop and gather your strength while you can. Don’t you think so?”
Maybe. Maybe he is right. However, Enjin would like to reiterate that he has nothing. No strength to gather and no hope for the future.
“You are thinking too much”
”What else am I supposed to do?”Enjin scoffs
”I told you already. Stop for a second and just be. Just as connecting with others is important, so is connecting with yourself. Sometimes what really needs to catch up with you is your mind”
“But I—I don’t—“
“It’s okay to run away sometimes, Enjin.”
No, no it isn’t. It’s never been this way before. You either stay and endure in silence or fight for a change till the very bitter end no matter what. What good does running away do? What good is there in giving up and abandoning everything you have? None, because the bitter truth is that you can’t just get up and leave everything behind.
Something will always follow, something will always stay. The guilt, the loss, it sticks to you like pungent black tar. Like a stain that would never wash away.
The faces of the kids he left behind at the orphanage, the knowledge that it’s all his fault will always haunt him.
There is no escaping oneself. “Enjin” knows that very well.
“I’m not saying that you have to run away forever. Like you said, it's impossible to escape from everything and everyone” Alto continues stubbornly cutting Enjin’s train of thoughts and it’s starting to irritate him a little.
Why the hell is he so insistent about trying to absolve Enjin of shit he doesn’t even know about?
Whatever happened it was his fault. It was his fault and he was prepared to tell him exactly that. He was finally gonna tell him to fuck off.
He stops though, once he finally has a proper look at the man in front of him.
It’s Alto’s turn to not meet his eyes now. Enjin notices the faraway look and the nervous scratching of his worn-out gloves though. The gentle smile he had before is still there but it doesn’t reach his eyes either.
It dawns on Enjin that this man, like everybody else on the Ground has a past as well. He is speaking from experience.
Enjin wonders what he is running away from.
As if sensing Enjin’s scrutiny, Alto finally raises his head and catches the boy’s gaze. Awareness returns to the old man’s eyes, whatever ghost haunted him was banished to the back of his mind and with a calm yet gentle conviction he says “You are not a coward Enjin. You are just a kid. So just be a kid right now. You can figure out the rest along the way”
He makes it sound so easy and Enjin would love to believe it so much.
Yet, a small part of him wants to retort again, to challenge those words with vitriol and sarcasm. It’s the part that still refuses to let go of his old name, as painful as it is. But the truth is, it’s a very small part, a little sting at the back of his mind. Most importantly it’s a hypocritical part of himself.
He had wanted to let go from the start, hadn’t he?
Early in the polluted zone
In his defense, he had been in a daze, his mind barely registering the world around him. Nothing mattered to him except that impulse to run, to escape. And oh had he run! Run and run, not caring for how long or where he ended up until he made it into a no-man’s land.
Not caring what would have happened to him there.
His past, his present, his future, the guilt, all of it would’ve been swallowed by a trashbeast and it would’ve been fine. A proper end for his meaningless life, that had brought nothing but misery to those around him.
And yet he is here now, sitting on the floor of a clinic. Fed and clean, holding a baby that won’t stop tugging at his finger to get his attention and the man that had given him a name, a proper name, smiling at him like he is worth something.
A man that is telling him that he is allowed this.
Allowed to be here.
Suddenly it hits him all at once. The sound of the falling rain hitting the window. The scent of soap on his new freshly cleaned clothes. The warmth of the little body against his chest, who is now looking at him, seemingly delighted at the fact that he’s here, paying attention to him.
He can feel all of this because he is alive.
He is alive
Right here, at this moment, he is alive.
Alive and free.
It 's too much. All of this is just too much.
The weight of these past few days fall on him and so do the silent tears that he cannot contain anymore. He tries, really tries to stop. He bites his lips shut, hoping to muffle the sobs escaping from his throat, all in vain. The tears keep on falling and worse he is sure that they are falling on the kid’s head, who must be so confused as to why this weird ass teenager is suddenly crying on top of him. So fucking embarassing.
Tiny hands land on his wet cheeks, their warmth a stark contrast with the coldness of the tearstrips on his face. The little kid looks at him, staring him down with his red eyes while he insistently keeps on patting his cheek as if offended by the salty drops of water that refused to stop.
Enjin can’t help but weakly laugh at the absurdity of it, once more being saved from another spiral of angst by a baby. A clueless baby that is surely not catching anything that is going on around him and most likely just wants attention, but stubbornly refuses to let Enjin fall down the rabbit hole of his own despair.
What a weird kid. What a weird duo really. Going out of their way to pick up a stray that surely was more work than he was worth it.
Still. Enjin is grateful.
“He really likes you.” Alto says.
”*Snif* weird ass baby” he so eloquently responds in between sniffles, unable to hide the embarrassment. It should be the other way dammit! He is too old to be comforted by a toddler!
A heavy gloved hand lands on his and the babies head and ruffles their hair “Oh my, it seems we are gonna need an umbrella. Looks like the rain made it inside the building huh?”
”Oh screw you old man!”Enjin responds without any animosity, batting the hand away and wiping off his tears and snot away with the back of his sleeve. He feels a little better now that he has let go of some of the garbage in his head. “So what now?”
“That’s up to you. However, I’ve gotta say, I move from town to town and I’m in dire need of another set of hands. Preferably one that owns an umbrella, so that I can hold the reins of my horse better, or shelter my kid while it rains”
”I don't— I don’t own an umbrella…”
”Yes you do”Alto says, pointing at the umbrella that he himself had gifted him, sitting innocently inside the umbrella stand by the door.
”You gave me that”Enjin deadpans
”Yeah, I gave it to you, so now it’s yours.”Alto reaffirms, tone and pointed words not giving room for any argument “ And it looks like you’ve got a tool that I need for a job that I’m offering. Neat huh?”
It’s such a forced attempt at being nice. At giving him the illusion of choice even though any idiot would see that the man is clearly giving him the only logical good answer served on a silver platter.
Again, too good to be true, but maybe…maybe he could bet on this stranger. His past self never had any luck, but maybe, now that he is “Enjin”’ his odds could change. For the better this time.
“So what do you say? It would be a great help. Plus, that way my kiddo could be out of the carrier more often” Alto asks, clearly wanting an affirmative answer from the boy.
”Carrier? You mean that weird-ass box? Also, who the hell puts a baby into a cooler like he is some sort of ham?!”
”Well yeah, how else am I gonna move him around!?” Alto answers defensively “He is too tiny to put a gasmask on, so I made him an hermetic box, with air filters and an oxygen tank so he could breathe. Plus the walls are reinforced with steel that—“
“Yeah yeah, I get it fancy gadgets, yada yada”
”Your attitude sucks kid”
”That’s what you get when you pick strays out of the streets. We all got behavioral issues”
“Hum!”
Suddenly, as if agreeing with him, two little arms raise up in the air and the baby on Enjin’s lap makes his presence known. Most likely the little munchkin was tired of not being the center of attention and decided to chime in, but Enjin can’t pass up the opportunity to be a little troll. Especially because Alto looks both exasperated and amused at both kids' antics.
”Oh! Seems like the munchkin agrees with me here” Enjin says while sporting the most satisfied, cat-like grin on his face.
”Betrayed by my own son” Alto jokes, faking exasperation, but the smile on his face betrays his amusement.
“Welp…I guess I could come with you guys. Seeing as I’m the only man equipped for the job apparently.” He finally answers, trying to be nonchalant about it
Alto sighs, as if relieved that Enjin had said yes and extents gloved hand that the boy gladly shakes “Glad to have you on board then Enjin”
”Nyu!”
”And so does my little boy too!”
Ah of course! How could they forget him? He supposes that this agreement also involves the tiny human on Enjin’s lap as well, so it would be rude not to seal the deal with him too. So Enjin lets the baby boy grab his finger and enthusiastically shakes it three times, making both the boy and the old man laugh.
“Glad to be here”
And he means it.
“Alright, It’s getting late and it doesn’t seem that the rain is gonna stop any time soon. I'll go and talk with Alice about getting a room. Keep an eye on him, would you?”Alto says, as he gets up with a huff and heads towards the door, not before looking at the two kids on the sofa and pointing at them with his gloved hand “and behave! Both of you!”
“Can’t promise anything!”
With a fond sigh and an exasperated shake of his head, the man steps out of the room, leaving both kids alone in silence.
”So your dad just wanted a babysitter huh?”He asks as he raises the baby to eye level. ”Alright it is as good of a job as any other I guess. However I’m warning you, I ain’t changing no diapers, so you better not shit all over me brat”
Maybe this little shit is more aware than Enjin gives him credit for, because, as if understanding that the older boy was talking shit about him, the baby lifts his chubby hand and smacks Enjin right on the nose.
“Ouch! Fine, fine! I’m sorry” Trying to avoid another smack to the face he sits the baby in his lap. He really shouldn’t let this kid get too close to his face, clearly he has a penchant for violence.
“Looks like your dad is gonna be out for a while. How about another nap huh? How does that sound?”
It’s more of a done decision rather than a suggestion really. There is not much else to do for now and Enjin is sure that he won’t be able to entertain the baby much longer or rather he won’t have the energy to keep doing it. All that has happened today finally catches up to him and exhaustion is creeping on him, making him yawn and his eyes drop a little.
So not really waiting for an answer, he lays down on the sofa, carefully putting the baby on top of him, making sure that his bubbly head was secure on top of his chest.
The kid doesn’t complain much, seemingly interested with Enjin’s shirt now, grabbing and yanking at the fabric with fascination. The interest is short lived though when his red eyes cross paths with his own and a stare down too wide awake.
This is not conductive to a good nap, Enjin thinks.
Without thinking, almost by instinct, he places his hand on top of the tiny head, stroking the smooth, silky, white hair in a monotonous rhythm. It seems to do wonders both for the baby and himself. Little by little, those tiny hands go lax and his big eyes close, until the only movement is the quiet rise and fall of his little chest.
Enjin closes his eyes too, the warmth nested in his chest lulling him to sleep.
Tomorrow is another day.